Scared That I Might Need You
by Latina Amante
Summary: MRy, Roger's got problems and Mark wants to help more than anything
1. Scared That I Might Need You

**Scared That I Might Need You**

_Written By: __Marina___

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"That bitch!"

Slam.

Cue to Roger Davis stomping through the door. Same play, every other night. Why I put up with it, I'll never know. Guess it has something to do with the GorgeousAngry sparks in his eyes. Damn, I am a boy in love.

"Mark?" I hear his deep voice bellow, more confused than angry-sounding now. I peek up from my position, stretched out on the couch, and find Roger standing with his hands _on his hips, surveying the loft. Oops, missed my line._

I sit up, trying unsuccessfully not to smile at how adorable he looks. Adorable probably isn't what he was going for. "I'm over here, Rog." Oooh, ad libbing… play's getting interesting tonight. "What'd she do this time?"

Roger stalks over to the couch and, once I've cleaned away my camera things, plops down, resting his head in my lap. "She accused _me of cheating! I mean, come on, where does she get off? I __saw her and Luke at the gig last night!"_

I sigh, absently rubbing my fingers through his hair, feeling the gel dissolve under my fingertips. Cheating… that's a new one. "I don't wanna say 'I told you so', but Roger… I told you not to get involved with Rachel. It's not a good idea to date crazy fan girls, I really wasn't surprised to see her and your bassist last—What?" I break off, my forehead wrinkling, as I notice Roger's blue eyes staring up at me in complete ShockIndignationConfusion.

"My… girlfriend's name isn't Rachel…" Roger squeezes out, trying to hide the shake in his voice.

Oh shit. "Yeah… it is, Rog. The big breasted blonde…" Not that that's horrendously helpful, all his girlfriends have been like that lately. He's been going for the complete opposite of Mimi, ever since… Damnit Mark, you're being Roger-comfort-y right now. Focus! "The young one, who thinks she can sing. Always wears the low-cut shirts, with the big sleeves…"

"Fuck." Roger groans and rubs his forehead, his eyes closing. "I've been calling her Michelle… That's what I thought she said that first night. No wonder she thinks…"

I make my "sympathetic face", trying to resist the urge to bend down and kiss his forehead. As close as our friendship is, I'm not a girl, so I can't get away with that under normal circumstances. Neither of us are upset enough right now for me to be able to kiss him… Poor Rog, things aren't exactly going… well. "Who did she accuse you of cheating on her with?" I ask gently, reaching down and unclasping his wrist spiky things. They keep poking me.

"I don't know!" Roger wails and I have to repress a smile. I don't think he's actually upset about things ending with Rachel, it's just her accusing him of things he didn't do and stuff. "She just kept babbling about some 'him'. About how I 'run back to him' and how if I 'love him so much, I should go screw him' and 'be with him' and… I didn't know what she was talking about!"

My jaw drops and I just stare down at him. "Him? You haven't been with a guy since—"

"Before April. I know," Roger interrupts softly, sitting up now. I blink, actually missing the weight of his head on my lap. "It's not like I've ever talked about being bi to her anyway, we weren't together long enough. I don't know where she got it from."

I shrug, honestly having no idea. Roger doesn't act stereotypically gay or anything… I mean, come on, he's your perfectly manly-man. And, yeah, he _is bi, but she didn't know, so it's just kind of… random. But, I know better than to press the subject, Roger'll get over it and probably find a new girl by tomorrow night. In the meantime… I'm ComfortGuy. I know it's the most I've ever have, and I'm content with that. After 6 years, you begin to accept your lot. "You hungry? Collins made me go grocery shopping today, we've got some donuts and stuff."_

Roger shakes his head, standing up. "I'm okay. I think I'm just going to play, you know?" He motions towards his guitar. Apparently he's in his angsty mood right now, and that was a definite sign to 'back off'.

"You have to eat, Rog." I couldn't help it. I'm supposed to leave him alone, and that _is the smart way to go, but… I worry about him. He's sick and all I ever see is him eating hard Ramen noodles and peanuts at the bars. I cringe a little, worried that Roger'll snap and hit me… not like it's never happened before._

Roger's features harden, just for a moment, but it immediately fades away into a small smile. "I'll eat in the morning, promise. Right now I just really need to be alone, to play." He reaches over and gently grabs my hand. "Thanks Mark." And with a wink and a squeeze of my hand, Roger and his guitar have disappeared.

I find myself sighing again as I sit back against the couch, rubbing my face. It's hell to watch Roger like this, he's completely self-destructive. It's just like after April except… it's harder. He promised me he'd never do drugs again, and he hasn't. But this is just as hurtful to him. I can't say anything, how am I supposed to tell Roger that his… "womanizing" is killing him just as much as drugs did?

I should just go to bed. I mean, sitting up and worrying about Roger isn't going to do me any good. And maybe, _maybe, I'll come up with an idea to fix him by morning._

Ha, I wish. My entire body slumps as Rog begins to play 'Your Eyes'. Tonight is _not a good night for my rock star. I stumble into my room, change into pajama pants and fall asleep, all to the excessive playing of 'Your Eyes' from Roger's bedroom._

God, I wish I could help him.  

**_Author's Note: I'm not entirely sure where this is going, but I know it's going somewhere! Thank you all for your amazing comments on the last story, reviews would help for this one too ;)_**


	2. Even The Sound

Scared That I Might Need You

_Even The Sound_

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_Your eyes_

_As we said our goodbyes_

_Why does distance make us wise?_

_And I find_

_I can't hide_

_From your eyes—_

Aaaaugh!

She's gone. I have to accept this, have to get over her, have to—it's not easy. The girl didn't leave anything behind, but she's everywhere in this apartment. God, I don't think there's a thing in here that doesn't remind me of her somehow. My old Well Hungarians shirt that she used to wear to bed; hell, anything involving the band reminds me of her. And almost everything I own relates to the band. That, or AIDS. Fuck, even the sound of my beeper going off sends images of Mimi flying through my mind.

Even though I don't know how I got here, I find myself standing in the doorway of Mark's room—the one place she was never able to touch. And tears are absolutely streaming down my face. 

Mimi would laugh her ass off if she could see me now. Roger Davis crying over a woman? Ha, she never knew that I cried over her while we were together too. After big fights, when she was really sick—whenever I thought I was gonna lose her. I just never let her see me, I couldn't let her know how weak I really was. Funny to think that I lost her anyway.

Damnit, Roger, stop thinking about Mimi and being such a tool! "Mark?" I whisper in a hoarse voice, hoping he can't see my face in the almost-darkness. "You awake?"

A blonde head, hair all over the place, peeks up from the covers. It tips towards me comically, and I would probably laugh if I weren't so upset right now. "I am now," Mark groans, rubbing his face with one hand and groping for his glasses with the other. "What's up, Rog?" He finally finds his glasses and I just start to pray that they won't make him able to see me crying. I know, glasses don't make him able to see in the dark, but the increased clearness might make him able to see _through the dark._

"I'm… I'm just…" I stutter a little, unwilling to talk in longer sentences until I calm myself down. He'll be able to tell that I'm—it's not that I've never cried in front of Mark before, it's just that it's not exactly common. Besides, it seems so stupid to be upset because I miss Mimi, now that I have to say it out loud. "I just keep thinking about her," I finally manage simply.

Mark's features soften and all traces of sleepiness are immediately wiped away. "I know, Rog. Commere?" He holds his arms out towards me and I automatically go over, letting him hug me. 

I know that to anyone outside, it would seem kinda gay, but this is just the way our friendship is. I don't know how it happened—I've always had a physical-contact addiction and Mark's just touch-y, I guess. But I have so many memories of holding Mark, taking care of him when he had nightmares when we first moved to the city. Or of Mark taking such good care of me, sharing my bed when I was so sick… It's just the way things are.  

"I miss her so much," I mumble, dropping my head so my forehead's resting on his shoulder. I know that Mark knows I'm crying now, my back's shaking. He has to be able to feel that, he'd be an idiot not to be able to. "I don't like being alone."

Mark gingerly rubs my back, letting me cry, and I'm grateful to him for it. Anyone else would just be babbling, trying to "comfort" me, and I'd be about ready to hit them. Still, I felt Mark tense up when I said about being alone. "Roger? Are you… uh… are you really upset about Mimi leaving, or is this about being alone?"

What? Why would Mark ask that? My eyes widen and my back stiffens a little. "I… Of course it's about Mimi. I loved her more than anyone, ever. She was my life, I don't know how she could have left me." And I'm lying through my teeth. It's not just me missing Mimi, it _is me not wanting to be alone. I wasn't necessarily good when I was with Rachel, but at least I was better._

"Roger…" Damn, he sees straight through me. Why can't I lie to Mark? I stare up at him, eyes pleading. I don't want to go through this right now. I've never gone with that whole 'sharing what you're feeling' thing, and now is definitely not time to go into my emotions.

I find myself snuggling into Mark's arms more now, wanting him to just hold me and not talk. Holy shit, did I just think 'snuggle' in regards to Mark? Isn't that something your girlfriend does? I lift my head up again and… yes, what Mark and I are doing is definitely in the 'snuggling-cuddling' territory.

Alright… I guess that's a friendship thing too then…

I automatically settle my head back against Mark, there's obviously nothing unusual about this to him. I'm just overreacting, probably from all the upset-ness of tonight. Finally, Mark sits up a little, rubbing his forehead and taking off his glasses. "Rog? I don't want to be mean, or anything, but I'm tired. I'm not used to running on zero hours of sleep, like a certain other man in this room."

He's kicking me out? I don't want to be alone tonight, he can't! "I… uh…" I start to stutter again, my eyes wide. I don't want to act like a wimp, but I just can't deal with this right now.

"Oh, Roger." Mark rolls his eyes and lays down between the covers. 'Oh Roger', what? I suddenly realize that he's grinning and holding his arms out. "Come here, you baby. You can stay here tonight."

A grin crosses my face too as I strip down to my boxers and lay down in Mark's arms. It feels good to be held by someone who doesn't expect anything in return.

**_Author's Note: Yay M/R! I think they're cute… Anyway, reviews make me happier than sex dice._**


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